


Swamp Terrors

by orphan_account



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Other, Tentacle Porn, Tentacles, willow at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2001261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It being a bit more hot and humid in the swamp should have set Wilson off.</p>
<p>And the overabundance of holes in the ground.</p>
<p>Now, he's in a bit of a situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swamp Terrors

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing fullblown smut. So if it's bad, tell me.

Wilson was not one to leave camp at points.

 

He would rather stow away by his science machines, try new recipies, hell, tend to the farms. 

 

But today, fate had other things stored. Or, well, Willow did.

 

"'Go pick mushrooms,' she says. 'It'll be quick,' she says." Wilson mumbled under his breath, jerking another handful of green fungi out of the ground. 

 

The swamp had always unnerved him, with the occasional graves, tentabeasts, frogs... Things could spring up at any point to scare him. He shoved the plants in his bag beffore standing up. "Willow, I have no idea to why you need these for firewood, but..." He kept muttering to himself as he walked.

 

He took a moment to see... a few more holes then usual. He dismissed the terrain with the thought that the tentacles were spearing frogs and making holes. Or more rabbits. He air was a bit more hot then usual, tempting the scientist to rub his forehead and check for sweat. He blew some air out of his mouth, dress shoes tapping against the hard swampland.

 

Then, something grabbed his foot.

 

The scientist cocked a brow as he looked down, seeing a small tendril wrapped around his shoe. He shook off the limb and kept walking.

 

Another grabbed his ankle.

 

He growled, pulling away. It's grip tightened, intent on staying attached.

 

As Wilson bent down to uncoil it, another shot out and grabbed his wrist.

 

The scientist gasped sharply. They were attacking! He reached for his spear with his free hand, only to once again be grabbed by the beasts.

 

In a flash, Wilson's hands were clapped together and he was pulled to the ground. Another tentacle wrapped around his free leg, holding him in place. A flurry of smaller ones emerged from the holes he was surrounded by, poking at his abdomen.

 

_So this is how it ends? Impaled by tendrils in a swamp?_ Wilson, unable to reach his lance, awaited the white hot pain of his organs to be ripped apart...

 

But it didn't come.

 

In fact, it felt a bit cooler...

 

Wilson jerked his head down, to see the flaps of his vest becoming undone.

They were fucking stripping him. Wilson, coming to his senses, resumed his struggling, trying to get his hands free. One of the tentacles slid off his vest, ripping it at the sides as it jerked the velvet garment off his hands. It pitched it into the swamp mud, as it's owner glared solemnly.

The sound of ripping cloth brought him back to the situation at hand.

They were ripping off his shirt. The cool air hit his chest immediately, the scientist hissing aggressively.

Almost immediately, the tendrils slid into his pants as they coiled around his abdomen. Wilson inhaled sharply at the sudden feeling around his member. "Oh dear science, oh my sci-" Wilson was cut off almost instantaneously, as a small, agile tentacle thrust it's way into his mouth.

The feeling around his cock tightened, as a few wrapped around his belt and slowly pulled his pants down.

A fat, slimy one that was coiling around his thigh rose, slowly poking at his posterior with interest.

Wilson couldn't help but gasp into the one in his mouth as it slowly poked inside him.

As a couple more writhed their way into his mouth, it began _thrusting._

Wilson let out a pride-crushing squeak every time it hit his prostate, his vision spiralling as the ones in his mouth FUCKED his throat, his hands still bound together, and his elbows scraping the ground.

Dammit, why did this have to give him _pleasure!?_

Slowly, however, the small tendrils in his mouth retracted, leaving Wilson's face covered in slime and his tongue lolling out. He watched, hypnotized, as they retreated into their dens, followed by the ones coiled around his appendages and body.

With a few parting thrusts, the final one retreated, leaving Wilson alone. The scientist looked down to see his front pants leg and the ground under him covered in white fluid.

"Wilsooooon!"

Getting to his feet, he jerked around, hearing Willow's voice. he dashed t the puddle of mud, retrieving his vest, biting his lip with his face red all over.

How was he going to explain THIS to the group?


End file.
